We, the People Like Us
11 years ago
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Monday, November 24, 2008
Jaagore!
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Thursday, November 20, 2008
My first story - Tamil Nadu Express
It’s eerie in the station. It shouldn’t be its Chennai central with 18 platforms and trains running in and out all the time, but it was early January and very late at night, ideally not a travelling time for most people. Only an occasional sound of sledging diesel engine or a piercing pipe of an electric engine is disturbing the silence of the platform. Not that there aren’t any people on the platform, there were many of them waiting for Tamil Nadu express to arrive into the platform. Tonight it is being stubborn, a technicality delaying its departure from Chennai central.
In the dim foggy night on platform 4, she was looking. Looking at something only she knows. He looked bored, smoking cigarette after cigarette. She turned to look at him; he couldn’t help but meet her eyes. He can see a very beautiful face, large eyes, and very fair skin with garlands of jasmines on her front covering her ample bosom. He couldn’t stop to look at her exposed waist between her white blouse and sari but quickly pulled his eyes back to her face. He could notice a veiled smile. She knows she is beautiful.
“Tamil Nadu Express is now entering into Platform 4 and will leave in 20 minutes. We apologise for the delay.” The train announcer parroted the same in Hindi and Tamil and the mike went dead with a rugged thud, clearly the announcer banged the mike down in utmost contempt.
First Class compartments of India are the last vestiges of colonialism. They are so expensive for what they offer, only government officials and people who could not get the air-conditioned car tickets travel in them. When he entered the coupe she was already there. He smiled and she returned a smug smile of conquest.
“I am in C3”, he stuttered as if to explain he is here coincidentally and did not really follow her. She smiled sweetly but did not say anything and returned her gaze to the tracks next to the train.
“I am going back to the platform to get some coffee before the train moves, would you like to have something?”
“It's 01 am and you want coffee?”
“I am getting off in Vijayawada, you see, it’s just 5 hours, so can’t really sleep.” he offered an explanation.
“A bottle of mineral water please”, she tried to open her purse but it wouldn’t open. He quickly asked her to give him the money later and got off.
“He is a very handsome guy and a gentleman. Except he doesn’t seem to have any control on his eyes.” Then she smiled to herself. She always enjoyed a bit of attention. Her husband hated it and went into bouts of jealousy whenever he sees something like this. He is a small man, so he can’t go and slug it out with the ‘perpetrator’ and so tightly bites his teeth and takes it out on her later. It could be her dressing once, her smiles the next time, a look this time, and an expression in the eyes the next time. In the beginning she tried to explain that it’s not her fault she is so beautiful but he never came round to the fact that she didn’t act on these attention and remained a faithful wife for many years. They went apart in many ways –mental, physical and even priorities, desires, aspirations, ideas they were miles apart. They were man and wife only on surnames. Years of loveless marriage, she started to question her loyalty to this relationship. First it was dinner and a conversation and soon flowers and declarations of undying love and soon a full blown affair with a friend from college, life was getting better. She knows Karthik loved her and she… loved spending time with him.
Sounds of the moving train, catching speed and changing tracks woke her out of her reverie. She wondered where the man was. She needn’t have wondered for very long, he came in slightly panting but seemed to be in control.
“Didn’t get time for coffee, there was a queue but here is your bottle of water”.
“Thank you, you are very kind. I am a very light sleeper, I can wake you up in Vijayawada if you want to catch some sleep.”
“No it’s fine, I have to be awake”.
“That’s fine, I am going all the way to Delhi so this train is my home for the next 36 hours. So to thank you properly, I will stay awake with you till Vijayawada. Let’s talk and get to know each other”.
He looked a bit uncomfortable, with an expression of something unexpected presenting itself.
“I wont bite don’t worry, so tell me your name”.
“Karthik” he told her in a confident manner of a guy who is used to being asked his name by beautiful girls. There was a flicker in her eyes, he noticed.
A deafening honk and the turbulent wind of a superfast train on the next track hit both of them. He waited till it’s gone and asked.
“You know any other karthik?”
“My…” she stammered only for a split second to recover and say, “husband”.
He looked like he was pleasantly surprised. “But your name is Vidya Raman, how can your husband’s name be Karthik?”
“How do you know my name? I didn’t tell you” she was curious but apprehensive.
“I saw it on the reservation charts when I came back from the kiosk”.
“Did I say husband, I meant my friend.” She smiled sweetly but he could sense discomfort.
He appraised her silently with no eyeball movement for a second and then said, “These days everyone has a ‘friend’, and there is no need to be uncomfortable.”
It was her time to be curious now, “Do you have a ‘friend’?”
“No, I am a loner, I like it this way.” he replied brusquely.
“No one likes to be alone. I know I don’t. Karthik left me an year ago and there has been no one ‘like’ karthik.” She sounded morose but suddenly there was a glint in her eyes.
“Why do you like being alone? Is it because you haven’t found anyone yet?”
“Why do you not like being alone? Why karthik? You don’t love your husband?”
“Don’t answer a question with a question”, she demurely smiled. “But I will tell you. My husband doesn’t love me as a person, he married me as a trophy wife, someone to show off and then he couldn’t handle the attention, and we went apart. Karthik is a childhood friend who I ran into in a temple. We couldn’t stop talking. “
“Why did he leave you then?”
There was pain in her eyes. “He didn’t leave me. He committed suicide because I wouldn’t marry him.”
“Oh I am sorry. If you love him, you could have divorced your husband”.
“I have lost faith in the institution of marriage you see. I was worried that what is otherwise a beautiful relationship would be spoilt by marriage. Also his wife would never divorce him.”
He wondered why she is telling all this to a stranger. He was not interested initially but now he is curious. More curious as to how she can tell all this to a stranger than the content of what she is saying.
“You are wondering why I am telling all this. To a stranger, someone I met on the platform”.
“Platform?”
“Don’t think I have not noticed you looking at me.”
“I wasn’t.” He tried denial but gave up instantly. “I thought you were looking at me. It's flattering to get the attention of such a beautiful person”.
“So you think I am beautiful.”
“Used to. When the train started, now I think you are beautiful and are in pain. Lonely and can’t stop talking, even with a stranger. No risk at all as I will be gone in a few hours and you probably wont see me ever again.”
“You didn’t come across like a stranger and I wasn’t looking at you. I was dreaming about the situation. I saw you in silhouette with a light up cigarette and imagined an empty platform of just you and me and before my imagination could go any further you looked and I had to turn my gaze”.
“If I didn’t look what would you have imagined?”
“Curious? Must be hot under the collar?”
“I am not a monk”, He declared.
“What are you then?”
He stood up and opened his bag from the upper berth and brought it
“Just a man trying to do a job”
“You never told me what you do”
“I help people. I don’t ask too many questions. Only sometimes.” He then looked into the howling air from the window and muttered under his breath “like now”.
“What did you say?”
He did not reply and thought its better to talk about her than about him. He was a loner and was never comfortable talking about him.
“So do you think all this was worth it? Jeopardising your marriage, a short fling with a lover who eventually took his own life?”
“Yes, it is worth it! My husband wanted a trophy wife, Karthik wanted his love forever, and the only person who got nothing in the scheme of things was I. So in a way it was worth it, as it came close to what I wanted in life. Excitement, change, secrecy, loss of all in such short burst of time. I know I sound selfish but that’s me.”
“There is nothing wrong in being selfish only there would be consequences and you should be brave to face them.”
“Yeah, I am facing the consequences. I suffer from loneliness everyday. I look for love everywhere and all I see is a world lacking in genuine sensitivity to entertain another person’s feelings and vanity, wants and needs, needs and desires.
“It's not all that bad”.
There was a flash in her eyes and she looked at him sharply. “It is”, she paused and then looked at him with a certain expectation in her eyes, “you think you can make it better?”
He was looking for an opening all this time, this was the first time he saw one.
“Of course, I am, at the moment, aren’t I? I am listening to you with sensitivity and you are not that lonely anymore, are you?” He moved his legs for his feet to touch hers. He could see she was getting excited; her breath was sharper, her look vague, her lips quivering and her ample bosom tightening.
“But this is just for now, isn’t it?” years of loneliness have taken their toll and turned her into a woman desperate and paranoid.
The gap between them is getting smaller and smaller now both their hands inches away from each other on the table separating them.
“No, this is for as long as you live”, there was sincerity in his voice and coldness in his eyes. He swiftly moved his left hand onto her right, clutching it tightly and in one smooth pull had both of them standing in a tight embrace.
She looked at him with wide open eyes, her cheeks were red, and her lips were opening to scream. He put his hands on her mouth and quietly pushed down to the floor. He pulled the knife back from her body, the area he chose, between her bosom and the left side of her waist. Her rib cage is clearly broken with the tip of the knife entering her heart. Death was instantaneous.
Vijayawada was just half an hour away. He quickly moved the body onto the bed, cleaned all the areas he has touched, wiped the blood and the fingerprints on the knife and threw it hard out of the window.
As he got out in Vijayawada, he thought about her. She was a fine woman; only fault was that she made an insanely jealous woman insanely jealous. Karthik’s wife didn’t let her go after his suicide. And for him, it was just another assignment. A false name, false reservation, a little disguise and none’s the wiser.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Travelog - Italy and Germany 2006
Wow Milano!
It was the evening of the 4th of October and I was playing pool in Nottingham. I knew I had to stop drinking as I needed to drive to London Stansted airport 130 miles away and its illegal to drink and drive not to mention extremely dangerous. So I got drunk, staggered home in a stupor, barely slept for an hour, jumped into my car and drove away at 3 in the morning. It was a feeling, a feeling of resignation to fate, a feeling of self loathing for not being able to stop drinking and yeah a sense of pristine fear that any minute anything might happen.
And the winding dark roads of A1 continued till I reached the airport, for the first time in ages I thanked God for my safety and got onto the flight to Milan-Bergamo airport. There was a pig of an Italian guy sitting next to me and I don’t talk to men, so I napped. Bergamo airport is a standard box sized cheap airport when my passport control lasted exactly 2 seconds, yeah the power of the British passport. On reaching my hotel, rather call it my jail cell in Milan City centre, I called my brother-in-law and planned to meet him at 4 in the evening at the central station and go around and paint the town red.
Pizzaaaaaa...
Well it has to be isn’t it? Went to a pizzeria close by and had the most authentic pizza with olives, capers and jalapenos, nearly died it was so spicy!!! Even for an Indian!
Power of Globalisation
Milan central train station was a massive imposing old building that is all Romanic from outside and all commercial chic inside with the largest rotating bill boards with the prettiest faces I have seen in an area of public transport. When will Secunderabad train station be like this?
Anyway, met my bro in law and both of had a good laugh about the power of globalisation. Atu Chennai itu Nottingham madhyalo meeting in Milan.
We went to see the famous Milan Cathedral Duomo; it was breath taking in magnitude yet so calm and serene. There were so many wonderful paintings I wished I could be an appreciator of art. Went to sit near a statue of Leonardo Da Vinci and get inspired for invention but it turns out his statue wasn’t photogenic so we left it to move onto the fashion streets of Milan. It was chic chic chic all the way, streets of close shops of one world famous brand next the another - Yves Saint Laurent, Gucci, Prada, Armani, Dolce & Gabbana, Valentino, Versace, Hogan and a million others. I found a tunic for the staggering amount of ten thousand euros!!! I took a picture of it.
The next day I set out on my own to explore the city and instinctively went back to the cathedral like God was calling me. Indeed he was I spent the most calm 2 hours of my life in the duomo and then moved on to get trashed! I wanted to do Milan on foot, I did Milan on beer!
History repeats itself, I was drunk again but I guess that history repeats itself pretty much every night for me. Staggered to the hotel at 12 slept for 2 hrs and yeah another bus to Bergamo airport. But this time I am going into the good hands of dear Sam, who like a true friend was there at Frankfurt Hahn airport, with his car, water and apples. It was almost instinctive he knew the state I would come in. We had a fine drive through the German autobahns with fine views of German countryside with difficult to pronounce villages like Ludwigshafen, Neiderkostenz, Hunsrückhöhenstraße over to Darmstadt.
Welcome to South India...
Once I landed in Sam's house, inspite of the plans to go to Frankfurt book fair where India was the flavour, I parked myself and did not move at all. Dosas, kandi podi, sambar, shoe shopping, burning hindi dvds, packing avakays, some pool in the evening where Sam kicked my ass. Sam told me about the importance of getting married and how I might struggle in India after getting used to European life, all valid yet strangely not indefatigable.
Then off to Dusseldorf in a super fast white Deutsche Bahn train with a mouse like engine. It was a very beautiful train indeed, like our first class compartments with doors separating coupes and the route parallel to the Rhine river all the way with beautiful villages peppered on the other side each owning their own long mast boats. More importantly, I had for company in the coupe, a German girl called Marcy with humongous breasts who liked to show them and knew I like them too. She took my email and left in Cologne. Wow if I get the job in Dusseldorf and she gets in touch... dream on!
Dusseldorf is a beautiful city with an old town with old Germanic buildings housing government offices of the federal state of Noord-Rijnland-Westfalen. One of the most striking features I found in Germany was the greenery in living; I mean greenery in lifestyle. Rural areas are green anyway (as seen from the aircraft) but even urban areas. Parks everywhere, wide roads with trees on both sides, more parks. Dusseldorf is a major city in the most industrialised area of Germany and it has parks everywhere. I wonder where are the land mafia like the ones in Mumbai or Hyderabad? I was waiting for my interview in the lobby, and the receptionist was like... why are you sitting here, why don’t you take a walk in Hofgarten (a park right next to E.ON headquarters and the river Rhine)?
Wo Weeze ist? Where is Weeze?
Anyway, interview went ok but am certain I won’t get the call for the second round so went into town and got drunk on German beers again before I tool off to another cheap airport called Dusseldorf-Weeze. This village Weeze is closer to Netherlands than it is to Dusseldorf, what a ride on the bus through the darkest winding roads leading out of Dusseldorf towards the Dutch border. It was surreal as I was expecting soldiers to stop the bus shouting ‘Achtung! Achtung!’ in harsh voices and dragging all non-white people. Oh sorry this is 2006 and that doesn’t happen anymore and there are no borders between Netherlands and Germany and hence no soldiers, thank God for that. At the Weeze airport which was more like a shed followed by a small terminal building, I went to the duty free store and found that Marlboro lights were just 38 euros which was 40% of what it costs in the UK. On a British passport I can carry 16 cartons apparently but I bought 8 only. Will sell in the UK and make a small profit. Everyone does that why cant I?
These cheap airports are cheap and cheap airlines are cheap. Their business model may sound great but ultimately it costs the same, if you count the hard costs of buses to far off airports, extra charge for baggage, food and drink and intangibles in frustrations in time spent in travel and lack of information. This flight was supposed to take off 10pm but calmly landed at 10.40 with nobody telling us what happened to the flight. As it was the last flight of the day (of the massive number of 8 that go from that airport), the airport was very silent. We heard some noises then, a couple of kids ran to the end of the waiting hall and were excitedly saying in Dutch 'Daddy, daddy the flight is coming'. It reminded of late nights in Indian Railway stations where the train turns up at it own time, nobody knows where it is, the authorities are absent and then suddenly children run 'nanna nanna train vacchestondi' and a slow powerful locomotive with a blinding light hums into the platform.
At last airborne again, homeward bound and a pretty young thing in the next seat. Sam told me that Germans are interesting in our culture etc so I struck up a conversation with her. I said something about death if I remember correctly and she was immediately like 'Are you a Hindu, is it your culture which keeps you at peace with life and death?' and I was like yes! namaste, you can only do what you can and leave the rest to karma and continued with language peppered with Hindu mystic words while desperately trying to remember the last time I went to a temple. Unfortunately Dorothy has a boyfriend but we exchanged numbers and will meet each other if I get the job or some other reason am in Dusseldorf!
Well that’s all guys, 5 days of actions, observations, chats, food, pool, flights, trains, cars, autobahns, brother in law and Sam! Now back to the shit!
See photos in photos.yahoo.com/nishbabs Album: Italy and Germany 2006
It was the evening of the 4th of October and I was playing pool in Nottingham. I knew I had to stop drinking as I needed to drive to London Stansted airport 130 miles away and its illegal to drink and drive not to mention extremely dangerous. So I got drunk, staggered home in a stupor, barely slept for an hour, jumped into my car and drove away at 3 in the morning. It was a feeling, a feeling of resignation to fate, a feeling of self loathing for not being able to stop drinking and yeah a sense of pristine fear that any minute anything might happen.
And the winding dark roads of A1 continued till I reached the airport, for the first time in ages I thanked God for my safety and got onto the flight to Milan-Bergamo airport. There was a pig of an Italian guy sitting next to me and I don’t talk to men, so I napped. Bergamo airport is a standard box sized cheap airport when my passport control lasted exactly 2 seconds, yeah the power of the British passport. On reaching my hotel, rather call it my jail cell in Milan City centre, I called my brother-in-law and planned to meet him at 4 in the evening at the central station and go around and paint the town red.
Pizzaaaaaa...
Well it has to be isn’t it? Went to a pizzeria close by and had the most authentic pizza with olives, capers and jalapenos, nearly died it was so spicy!!! Even for an Indian!
Power of Globalisation
Milan central train station was a massive imposing old building that is all Romanic from outside and all commercial chic inside with the largest rotating bill boards with the prettiest faces I have seen in an area of public transport. When will Secunderabad train station be like this?
Anyway, met my bro in law and both of had a good laugh about the power of globalisation. Atu Chennai itu Nottingham madhyalo meeting in Milan.
We went to see the famous Milan Cathedral Duomo; it was breath taking in magnitude yet so calm and serene. There were so many wonderful paintings I wished I could be an appreciator of art. Went to sit near a statue of Leonardo Da Vinci and get inspired for invention but it turns out his statue wasn’t photogenic so we left it to move onto the fashion streets of Milan. It was chic chic chic all the way, streets of close shops of one world famous brand next the another - Yves Saint Laurent, Gucci, Prada, Armani, Dolce & Gabbana, Valentino, Versace, Hogan and a million others. I found a tunic for the staggering amount of ten thousand euros!!! I took a picture of it.
The next day I set out on my own to explore the city and instinctively went back to the cathedral like God was calling me. Indeed he was I spent the most calm 2 hours of my life in the duomo and then moved on to get trashed! I wanted to do Milan on foot, I did Milan on beer!
History repeats itself, I was drunk again but I guess that history repeats itself pretty much every night for me. Staggered to the hotel at 12 slept for 2 hrs and yeah another bus to Bergamo airport. But this time I am going into the good hands of dear Sam, who like a true friend was there at Frankfurt Hahn airport, with his car, water and apples. It was almost instinctive he knew the state I would come in. We had a fine drive through the German autobahns with fine views of German countryside with difficult to pronounce villages like Ludwigshafen, Neiderkostenz, Hunsrückhöhenstraße over to Darmstadt.
Welcome to South India...
Once I landed in Sam's house, inspite of the plans to go to Frankfurt book fair where India was the flavour, I parked myself and did not move at all. Dosas, kandi podi, sambar, shoe shopping, burning hindi dvds, packing avakays, some pool in the evening where Sam kicked my ass. Sam told me about the importance of getting married and how I might struggle in India after getting used to European life, all valid yet strangely not indefatigable.
Then off to Dusseldorf in a super fast white Deutsche Bahn train with a mouse like engine. It was a very beautiful train indeed, like our first class compartments with doors separating coupes and the route parallel to the Rhine river all the way with beautiful villages peppered on the other side each owning their own long mast boats. More importantly, I had for company in the coupe, a German girl called Marcy with humongous breasts who liked to show them and knew I like them too. She took my email and left in Cologne. Wow if I get the job in Dusseldorf and she gets in touch... dream on!
Dusseldorf is a beautiful city with an old town with old Germanic buildings housing government offices of the federal state of Noord-Rijnland-Westfalen. One of the most striking features I found in Germany was the greenery in living; I mean greenery in lifestyle. Rural areas are green anyway (as seen from the aircraft) but even urban areas. Parks everywhere, wide roads with trees on both sides, more parks. Dusseldorf is a major city in the most industrialised area of Germany and it has parks everywhere. I wonder where are the land mafia like the ones in Mumbai or Hyderabad? I was waiting for my interview in the lobby, and the receptionist was like... why are you sitting here, why don’t you take a walk in Hofgarten (a park right next to E.ON headquarters and the river Rhine)?
Wo Weeze ist? Where is Weeze?
Anyway, interview went ok but am certain I won’t get the call for the second round so went into town and got drunk on German beers again before I tool off to another cheap airport called Dusseldorf-Weeze. This village Weeze is closer to Netherlands than it is to Dusseldorf, what a ride on the bus through the darkest winding roads leading out of Dusseldorf towards the Dutch border. It was surreal as I was expecting soldiers to stop the bus shouting ‘Achtung! Achtung!’ in harsh voices and dragging all non-white people. Oh sorry this is 2006 and that doesn’t happen anymore and there are no borders between Netherlands and Germany and hence no soldiers, thank God for that. At the Weeze airport which was more like a shed followed by a small terminal building, I went to the duty free store and found that Marlboro lights were just 38 euros which was 40% of what it costs in the UK. On a British passport I can carry 16 cartons apparently but I bought 8 only. Will sell in the UK and make a small profit. Everyone does that why cant I?
These cheap airports are cheap and cheap airlines are cheap. Their business model may sound great but ultimately it costs the same, if you count the hard costs of buses to far off airports, extra charge for baggage, food and drink and intangibles in frustrations in time spent in travel and lack of information. This flight was supposed to take off 10pm but calmly landed at 10.40 with nobody telling us what happened to the flight. As it was the last flight of the day (of the massive number of 8 that go from that airport), the airport was very silent. We heard some noises then, a couple of kids ran to the end of the waiting hall and were excitedly saying in Dutch 'Daddy, daddy the flight is coming'. It reminded of late nights in Indian Railway stations where the train turns up at it own time, nobody knows where it is, the authorities are absent and then suddenly children run 'nanna nanna train vacchestondi' and a slow powerful locomotive with a blinding light hums into the platform.
At last airborne again, homeward bound and a pretty young thing in the next seat. Sam told me that Germans are interesting in our culture etc so I struck up a conversation with her. I said something about death if I remember correctly and she was immediately like 'Are you a Hindu, is it your culture which keeps you at peace with life and death?' and I was like yes! namaste, you can only do what you can and leave the rest to karma and continued with language peppered with Hindu mystic words while desperately trying to remember the last time I went to a temple. Unfortunately Dorothy has a boyfriend but we exchanged numbers and will meet each other if I get the job or some other reason am in Dusseldorf!
Well that’s all guys, 5 days of actions, observations, chats, food, pool, flights, trains, cars, autobahns, brother in law and Sam! Now back to the shit!
See photos in photos.yahoo.com/nishbabs Album: Italy and Germany 2006
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Open letter to all Indians on Independence day
My Dear Indians,
I am glad to congratulate you for your independence from us. As much as we guys love your curry, I think it was a good decision for us to let you go free. I am going to take full credit for 'giving' you democracy, a disciplined military, law and a unified India which didn’t exist before we came into the picture. And yeah, how can we forget cricket? Something to entertain your otherwise dreary moth-ridden lives.
Now that it’s been 59 years, how are you faring? Don’t you miss the days of yore? I say you did ok. Better than the pakis of course. We, here in the Blighty, miss it a lot. We still print newspaper reports where we fondly would like to remember India as we left it, snake charmers, people travelling on roof tops of coal trains, yogis with large beards and little children picking rags. Just watch our history channel, we continually ignore our imperialistic excesses in your country and call the Germans butchers and take a moral high ground.
Ah, you must have grown as a nation by now - corruption free, pollution free with more achievements than just IT from two cities and a bomb. Surely there must be more. You must have made your peace with Pakistan, engaged with China, alleviated poverty, ran services for the citizen's benefit. I hope to God that people still don’t die with every drop of rain. I hope all of you are a bit more sensitive when you see a child picking rags than going to school, I hope you are all 'citizens' now than a me-myself-and-my-family sort.
I think now that its been a long time and you are also turning a bit rich, I think its time we get to know each other. So may be some of our students can intern in your country's large corporations than just visit Varanasi to 'discover' themselves and then get bladdered in Goa. may be we can start watching Bollywood a little more than just watching whatever that comes of Hollywood. May be we look at India as a massive market than just a low cost labour. And may be some of us can recognise that India is right now the third largest foreign investor in the UK!
Sincerely,
Your Brit Master
I am glad to congratulate you for your independence from us. As much as we guys love your curry, I think it was a good decision for us to let you go free. I am going to take full credit for 'giving' you democracy, a disciplined military, law and a unified India which didn’t exist before we came into the picture. And yeah, how can we forget cricket? Something to entertain your otherwise dreary moth-ridden lives.
Now that it’s been 59 years, how are you faring? Don’t you miss the days of yore? I say you did ok. Better than the pakis of course. We, here in the Blighty, miss it a lot. We still print newspaper reports where we fondly would like to remember India as we left it, snake charmers, people travelling on roof tops of coal trains, yogis with large beards and little children picking rags. Just watch our history channel, we continually ignore our imperialistic excesses in your country and call the Germans butchers and take a moral high ground.
Ah, you must have grown as a nation by now - corruption free, pollution free with more achievements than just IT from two cities and a bomb. Surely there must be more. You must have made your peace with Pakistan, engaged with China, alleviated poverty, ran services for the citizen's benefit. I hope to God that people still don’t die with every drop of rain. I hope all of you are a bit more sensitive when you see a child picking rags than going to school, I hope you are all 'citizens' now than a me-myself-and-my-family sort.
I think now that its been a long time and you are also turning a bit rich, I think its time we get to know each other. So may be some of our students can intern in your country's large corporations than just visit Varanasi to 'discover' themselves and then get bladdered in Goa. may be we can start watching Bollywood a little more than just watching whatever that comes of Hollywood. May be we look at India as a massive market than just a low cost labour. And may be some of us can recognise that India is right now the third largest foreign investor in the UK!
Sincerely,
Your Brit Master
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Europe Losing?
Europe Losing?
Europe is an old continent, steeped in its history and except for the last 50 years or so, its primacy in world matters, economic and social orders. This item will discuss the 'except for the last 50 years' part of Europe's history and its effects on the continent.
Luxembourg government changes constitution to block Mittal steel's takeover bid!
Chinese bra wars threaten Blair China trade talks
Danish cartoons upset Muslim World
Powergen pulls back call centres from India due to customer backlash
Nottingham university linguistics department yet to offer Mandarin
If one analyses the underlying theme in all these headlines, one can see Europe's distinct lack of understanding of the current world order. So what does Europe seem to want? A homogenous, agnostic, mono chromatic, local as opposed to global and a sexually uninhibited society? There is nothing wrong with it. As a matter of fact, I totally believe that Europe will be a much better place if this condition was prevalent than what is. But it would be luxury if what I want is also what I have.
The problem here is not that Europe is racist/monolingual/protectionist society but its inability to change itself for the realities of the world. What is even worse is that Europe seems to be blind to the effects and is quite content suffering with the consequences. It thinks it can have what it wants.
There has been a DTI report recently that UK is losing out on its investment possibilities in India because of its false perception that India is just a low cost labour market and thereby losing out on strategic intellectual capital that India offers and not to mention a market of 1.1 billion. One in 100 births in the UK happen at home under no medical supervision due to the shortages of midwives and nurses, yet the home office refuses to issue work permits to nurses abroad. Volkswagen has been thinking for nearly three years now to invest in India and in the meantime Hyundai, Ford Motor Company, Proton, Skoda and a lot more have already had their presence in India. Denmark just lost a market of 1.1 billion Indians because of their callous expression of ‘freedom of speech’.
What we see here is not just an inability to gauge the world order and its levers, but an incorrigible degree of complacence which is hurting Europe’s interests. It has already lost to China as a market leader and conservative estimates put India to surpass EU by 2015. Its now or never to Europe to wake up to work with countries outside Western Europe in a more equitable fashion.
Is there something that can be done? Education would help. I am not talking education as taught in schools. That syllabus is a product of same callousness I have been highlighting. I am talking people of non-European origin helping their European counterparts understand the real world and help them engage the countries for the mutual benefit of both Europe and outside. This needs to start at a grass root level with people looking at other cultures in a non-monochromatic charity mindset but in a more equitable fashion in terms of trade, professionalism and education. Studies show 70% of British people have friends only in their race i.e. a white British will have only white friends, a brown British will have only brown friends. Culture can start changing from here at a more fundamental level. Studies show the desegregation in American schools achieved empathy and understanding of black and white cultures and helped foster a much stronger America and an America that understands the world much better because it understands all elements within itself.
Europe is losing its engagement levers with the rest of the world and it has to wake up and wake up now.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Reservation or No Reservation
This has been a debate in India for centuries where middle and upper classes have been generous to the lower classes but there has always been a glass ceiling which the lower classes are not allowed to breach. All these protests are of the same fundamental nature. Lowly government jobs, undergraduation is ok but not in the highest educational institutions of the country.
What the politicians need to know is that this is a strong cultural sentiment and work with it and help primary education and let the lower classes 'qualify' to breach both the glass ceiling and upper caste sentiments. If Reservations are implemented in its current shape and current form, it will polarise the country and I, for one, am not either voting congress or going to a 'lower' class doctor because I am not sure if he is 'qualified' enough!
What the politicians need to know is that this is a strong cultural sentiment and work with it and help primary education and let the lower classes 'qualify' to breach both the glass ceiling and upper caste sentiments. If Reservations are implemented in its current shape and current form, it will polarise the country and I, for one, am not either voting congress or going to a 'lower' class doctor because I am not sure if he is 'qualified' enough!
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